Chapter 5
The first day at sea, Aisha remained in the small cabin with the door locked, listening to feet pounding above.
In the evening, Kaidon brought her food, but she had no appetite.
She drank the water, then attempted to sleep, waking every hour in a strange sort of panic, forced to remember where she was over and over again.
Aisha emerged the next day to the quiet rhythm of activity on deck. She ignored the stares of the crew. They would have to get over the novelty of a princess on board, because there was no way she could remain below decks for another three days.
If Tariq was unhappy about her emergence, he hid it well. He spotted her from the other side of the deck, then walked over to her.
‘Morning,’ he said.
‘Good morning.’
He looked around before saying, ‘If you’re looking for food, Kaidon was about to bring you some.’
‘Actually, I was looking for fresh air.’
He nodded. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘You?’
‘Well enough.’ Another awkward look around. ‘I’ll leave you to your… air.’ With that, he left, busying himself with other people and things. It seemed he had no interest in spending time with the woman he had chosen to be his wife.
The sea stretched out endlessly, a blanket of dark blue with choppy waves that made the ocean look alive.
Aisha leaned against the ship’s railing, eyes on the horizon where the sky and water met.
But her gaze kept returning to Tariq, whether he be absorbed in a conversation with his guards, reading something, or liaising with the crew.
His expression was always serious, as if every minute of the journey demanded it.
Occasionally, their eyes would meet, and he would give a polite nod before turning to the next task. She left him to it, wandering the parts of the ship where she wasn’t in anyone’s way.
At the end of the second day, Kaidon brought a tray of food to her cabin again, and this time she was hungry enough to finish it.
On day three, she woke with a gasp when she landed on the floor of her cabin.
It was pitch-black, and it took her a moment to realise that she had fallen out of bed because the ship was rocking from side to side.
Climbing to her feet, she held on to the wall for balance as she felt around for the latch on the door and slid it open.
She made her way up the narrow steps to the deck to see what was going on.
Cold wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked around.
A wave crashed against the ship’s side, sending a sharp spray of water over her.
‘Get below decks!’ a crew member shouted at her.
Realising how dangerous it was, she did exactly that, retreating back down the stairs to her cabin. She slid the latch back into place and sat on the bed in the dark, hugging her knees and waiting for the weather to pass.
But it didn’t.
The sunrise brought with it rougher waves that slammed into the ship with a force that made the walls shudder around her.
The fear and loneliness Aisha had felt was replaced with seasickness.
She tried lying down and closing her eyes in hope of relief, but that only made it worse.
Nausea climbed her throat, sharp and unrelenting.
She fought it, but the ship lurched again, and she knew she was going to be sick.
Stumbling out of bed, she fell against the door, her vision blurring. When she opened it, she came face to face with a soaking-wet Tariq holding a pail. Water dripped from his hair down his face. They looked at each other in the grey light.
‘In case you don’t have your sea legs yet,’ he said, extending the pail to her.
She slapped a hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to not be sick in front of him, but it was no good. Grabbing the pail, she vomited while he watched on.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, beyond mortified.
‘Even the strongest of stomachs are being tested right now.’ He looked up. ‘Half the crew are currently emptying theirs.’
The cold air coming down the stairs was bliss on her face.
Tariq gestured for her to go back inside. ‘I’ll stay with you.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
Taking the pail, he turned her around and guided her back into the cabin. ‘I need to take care of this. I’ll be back in a minute.’
Embarrassed, and thoroughly ill, Aisha did as she was told.
Tariq returned with a clean pail, leaving the door open behind him for fresh air. They sat side by side on her bed with their backs pressed against the wall, listening to the storm.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m fine.’ She drew her knees up and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, trying not to notice the rise and fall of the ship.
It was no good. She returned to the pail at Tariq’s feet and was sick again. He reached out to hold her steady.
‘Don’t look,’ she said, waving him away.
‘I assure you, I’m not.’
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, fighting back tears.
Thankfully, she had nothing left to bring up after that.
She sat with her nausea, wishing she was anywhere else but on the ship.
While Tariq certainly wasn’t her first choice for company, his presence eased the sharp edges of everything she was feeling.
As the hours dragged on, the storm’s fury lessened. The waves became smaller and less frequent.
‘Do you want some air?’ Tariq asked when all was still.
She nodded weakly. ‘I’m guessing you do.’
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. ‘Let’s go.’
The deck was a wreck of seawater and tangled ropes.
Barrels had broken loose and were being dragged back into place.
The sails hung heavy and soaked, straining against the rigging.
The crew moved like ghosts through the aftermath, their clothes plastered to their skin and steps sluggish from hours of fighting the storm.
Tariq guided Aisha to the base of the mainmast, where they sank down onto the damp boards and leaned back against the solid post. The clouds began to thin and break apart, and light spilled over the deck. It was too bright for her, so she closed her eyes.
‘You should start to feel better soon,’ Tariq said beside her.
Aisha barely registered his words as she fell into an exhausted sleep.
When she woke, the sky was a brilliant blue.
She blinked, adjusting to the stark light.
That was the moment she realised her head was resting on Tariq’s shoulder.
The fabric of his cloak was rough and wet, yet warm.
Not only had he remained there as her pillow, but he’d changed his position to provide better comfort.
A flush of awkwardness washed over her as she carefully sat up, running a hand over her wild hair. ‘Sorry.’
There was the faintest hint of amusement in Tariq’s eyes.
‘And thank you for… all of that,’ she said, her voice hoarse. ‘That must have been very unpleasant for you.’ When she looked over at the pail, she was both relieved and embarrassed to discover that someone had rinsed it clean.
Tariq rested his wrists on his knees. ‘I’ve endured worse.’ He exhaled. ‘Feeling better?’
She nodded. ‘I’m trying really hard not to breathe in your direction right now.’
The corners of his mouth twitched before he looked ahead again.
The deck was now tidy. At the stern of the ship, Aisha spotted Kaidon sitting with the other guards.
‘Is everyone else aboard all right?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Tariq stood and extended a hand to her, pulling her to her feet. ‘You should try to eat something. It’ll help settle your stomach.’
‘I will.’ Her legs were like jelly beneath her, and she prayed they would hold, as she had embarrassed herself quite enough.
The prince watched her for a moment longer, then bowed his head before walking off to join his men.
Aisha’s eyes followed him as she considered whether she was any closer to knowing him.
She knew he was dutiful. Tending to her while she was ill was proof of that.
However, his actions lacked warmth. Though what did she expect three days into a new relationship?
At least he was respectful. Many women in her position didn’t even get that.
With a heady exhale, Aisha returned to her cabin and prepared for another day of solitude.